Frustrated
by prentiss-be-mine
Summary: Regina's lust-filled fantasies of Emma are getting out of control. Even making her rethink her strict morals of sexual pleasure. SQ; T for now, M for later :) NOW RATED M :)
1. Chapter 1

**Though I love the possessive dynamic people give Regina in bed because well, her character(s) is power, I like to think her mother's smothering to happiness makes her a prude. And t****hinking of Regina Mills as a prude in bed is the best thing that's ever happened to me. Hope you enjoy reading as I enjoyed writing :)**  


**Disclaimer: I don't own the OUAT characters. Just my perverted thoughts on two particular characters ;)  
**

The quivering sounds of Regina's pants hushed her dark room as she jumped into a sitting position on her bed, skin coated in sweat. She could barely hear over the blood pumping in her ears, her senses on overdrive from her irritatingly stimulating dream. A low sigh, uncharacteristic even for her low timbre of a tone, rumbled deep in her belly- which fell limb from her subconscious actions- as she flopped back on the bed, rolling her eyes. It was then that she realized that a hand was inside her shorts, softly stroking the sensitive flesh there. Like lava she shrugged it away, appalled at the offending motions of her perversion.

It happened- again; this, this, nightmare. A sick act of images that can't seem to leave her mind, despite her expedient actions to the contrary. It's been weeks and she kept dreaming of it, her, in various locations and positions and it was driving her mad. Like mother told her long ago "Intercourse is for the King's hedonism, or your power. Pleasure is coercion, which is weakness, dearie.' And Regina Mills will never show weakness, especially to the woman she hated.

Or suppose to hate.

It all started when she caught sight of Emma wearing one of her shirts- which should've irritated her. Watching her walk in the silk, most likely not accustomed with the lush material, was amusing, though. It hung loose around her chest area, obviously not tailored for her form and the awkward unfamiliarity was so stiff it looked borderline painful. Yet oddly the blonde's rigid stride- squared shoulders, fingers digging into palms- brought out some of her individuality and, well lack of better words, swagger. A swagger that Regina found very sexy.

A swagger she _wasn't_ suppose to find sexy.

She wouldn't allow herself to indulge in such fantasies, though, or whatever the hell this situation was. That would be admitting this was getting the best of her, that the brash blonde was always on her mind, and she refused to show physical evidence of her mental betrayal.

Regina Mills was a lady.

...

Storybrooke's winters weren't the worse weather she's experienced, but the occasional frost wind can be quite unpleasant to her mood and her joints. The best remedy for this unfortunate weather was a nice warm, steamy dip in her indoor jacuzzi and a good book nestled in her hand. That'll not only relieve her bones but perhaps another reason of new-found stress in her life.

Or so she thought.

She dipped her toe in the warm, bubbling water and she felt the relief already. Satisfied with its heat she planted that foot down, leaning against the wall for support as she carefully sank her naked body into the tub, a low groan leaving her lips as her eyes slipped shut. This was what she needed, relaxation; to let her scurrying mind null with bliss. Regina slid further into the jacuzzi, allowing the jets to knead the tightness of her muscles. The ache abated, and pleasurable satiation blossomed. Her eyelids grew heavy and her limbs numb, but a _certain _ache she, unfortunately, was well aware of.

When she blinked and her eyes stayed closed longer than open, she let the exhaustion get the best of her. Vision blurry, she traveled into the bliss of her mind, to something that lull relaxation couldn't rest. An insufferable blonde, green eyes that told the storm of frustration and lust. That pale athletic frame pressed against her own, a heat building at her pelvis as she clawed down a toned back, softly begging against a small ear- the unfamiliar fragility of her voice no longer embarrassing to her- and two, lithe fingers gliding into almost shameful wetness, all in one motion, just that step to tip her off to-

She blinked, a nearly painful stomp with her eyes, as she nearly leaped into a rigid posture. A warm body no longer pressed against her core. Long, blonde curls didn't tickle her tensed abdomen, and she wasn't encircled with pleasure and wrinkled sheets.

She's back in her jacuzzi, adorned with a few lit candles, and the rhythmic quivers of her breathing- her hand between her legs.

Her hand between her legs!

The realization made her snatch away with a hiss, bubbling water splashing against her chest. The only times she caught herself with her fingers there when it were done unconsciously, and, of course, for hygienic purposes. She doesn't, refused to, give into temptation; a euphemism for weakness. It had been wired from mother that sex was merely for procreation, manipulation, and, or, control. And though her hatred for her mother stemmed from somewhere dark and vulnerable, a few of her quotes and mannerisms sunk in and shaped her into the monster people feared- in _both_ worlds.

A role, for the most part, she didn't mind playing.

With haste she stood up and snatched the plush, crimson towel as she stepped out of the tub. And even there, somewhat awake and active, she seemed to find a honey-colored mane at the centre of her abdomen, feel soft kisses with a warm, open mouth, trailing down to clean the mess she was the culprit of starting in the first place. And when green eyes on hers held a glint of imp and desire, she snapped out of her hazy reverie and continued drying herself off.

Something she thought a certain blonde would make a task this mundane and necessary, far more interesting and satisfying.

* * *

_**Just a little short insight on Regina's frustration :) It would be lovely if you leave me a review and tell me what you think so far :D**__  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thank you all for the reviews/alerts/ favorites! This isn't going to be long, five chapters if I calculate correctly. Upping up the rating for some sexy times ;)**__  
_

_You're really something else, ya know that?" Emma asked, smirking into a kiss she deliberately kept chaste.  
_

_Regina groaned but held the same amusement as she opened her mouth, granting the admission Emma asked for. "And what ever do you mean, Sheriff?"  
_

_The brunette was propped on Emma's lap, straddling her- the only patch of cloth between them being the blonde's boyshorts.  
_

_"You can never get enough, can you?" The younger woman lazily caressed olive thighs, hiking up to the curve of her waist, until it caught the swell of a pert breast, thumbing purposely around a dark nipple.  
_

_Regina choked back a breathless gasp as she unconsciously arched into that thorough hand, rocking her hips for some sort of relief. "I've heard- **oh**...that I'm quite insatiable," she managed to say through clenched teeth.  
_

_"Oh do I know it," Emma pointedly pinched her nipple, smirking at the brunette's small whimper, "but lucky for you," her free hand delved to her core, softly lapping her fingers with slick wetness, "so am I."  
_

_The mayor's stomach clenched as a shuddering moan rasped from her. Brows furrowed, she allowed those fingers to find her, stroking through soaked flesh and that sweet spot that choke out helpless moans and soft sighs.  
_

_"Argh...g-god- Emma, fuck!"_

_Emma sat in an angle, a few inches off the bed, as she thrust into the brunette's heat, clutching- practically clawing- a trembling hip as Regina instinctively bobbed against those two fingers.  
_

_With Regina's back wantonly arched, Emma leaned up to align her mouth against an aching nipple, closing her teeth rather roughly against the little nub. The brunette hissed, not exactly sure whether to lean into the warm breath and teeth against her breast, or buck her hips against those persistent fingers that failed to leave a nerve untouched.  
_

_"How does that feel?" The blonde's voice was rough against her chest, her lips hiking up to the brunette's neck with wet kisses. Its rasp- filled with want and impatience- showed the only sign of Emma's desire. Otherwise her eyes remained aligned with the brunette's close-lidded ones, her body not fidgeting against the trembling one before her's, and breathing wasn't short and choppy like the Mayor's.  
_

_"G-God it feels..." Tingles shot through Regina's veins as she distributed more of her weight on her knees, impaling herself in a nearly bruising fury as she kept rising and falling with Emma's thrusts, needing that little push to have her seeing stars.  
_

_"I asked you a question."  
_

_Regina would never admit this to anyone, she barely let herself settle that in when her mind wasn't made of mush, that Emma's forcefulness in bed- her rough grunts and pants, her demands of Regina's feelings- made her shiver with delight.  
_

_"God it feels..."_

* * *

"...so good..." Regina fluttered her eyes open in hopes of sharing a gaze with her lover, but sadly caught contact with her crimson pillow. Her legs didn't straddle a nearly naked blonde, and nails didn't dig into her waist and hips. Unfortunately she was alone, stomach flushed against her bed with her own fingers between her legs.

"Dammit!" she breathed harshly into her pillow, leaning her head to the side so the air can seep through her burning lungs.

It was always harder to stop when her dreams held such clarity and personality. The blonde actually spoke to her, laughed with her while she laughed back. She wasn't just a shell to fulfill her unsatisfying libido, someone who Regina could pass for someone else- like Kathryn, or a blonde stranger. It's not like she would think of Kathryn anyway- she was too submissive and clingy, also quite skinny for her ascetic taste.

She didn't know how Emma's combativeness could be something that both infuriated and enthralled her, but it was the truth nevertheless. The ember sparking in those green eyes as she roared her opinion had Regina stilled in her heels- internally, that is. Something about her nearly permanent scowl and her brows tented over her eyes held something that passed conventional anger and disgust. The Mayor knew it was there- and for the most part it was justifiable in the ways she treated Emma- but something deeper, past that layer of disdain, lye something passionate, lustful even. Of course Regina wouldn't question the blonde about it- she barely gave herself time to think over the slight possibility that her infatuation could be mutual.

And that's why she _still _couldn't slip her fingers from her legs. Because times like this, dreams like this, made her believe that perhaps Emma could be in the same position in her room, thinking of Regina, thinking of _them. _

Her fingers began to move again, slowly, as if her brain was giving a warning that she was about to overstep this fantasy to something dangerous. But she couldn't stop- it burned to not move.

A soft moan shuddered from her as she swiveled her hips into her fingers, not riding just yet; not thrusting with the intensity the woman in her dreams had. Still, a very heavy warning.

That portion of her brain that wasn't mush scolded her for her weakness, demanding that she snap out of this reverie and go about her day. And Regina tried to listen, she really did, but her hips told a different story. It told a different calling, a different yearning.

Her eyes shuttered to a close as she softly rode her fingers- quivering breaths panting out of her mouth. Her dry lips needed that pressure they received in her dream. She needed a wet tongue stroking the cave of her mouth, matching the thrusts in between her legs.

Shame clouded the arousal sprinkling to her pores; not much to overpower the stimulating sensations, but enough to make itself known. She needed it with a burning passion, an embarrassing desperation that brought tears to her clenched eyes. Mother would be disappointed.

Her wrist burned from its strained position, but Regina couldn't stop- her thrusts losing coordination as the visions of Emma picked up in her mind.

The blonde beneath her, bucking against her hips as she pumped the calloused fingers inside of the brunette.

"Oh- oh fuck!" She can feel herself tipping to that dangerous peak, a place she's never allowed herself- or anyone- to reach.

And _oh _can she feel that burn growing in her pelvis as it glided wildly against her sheets. It's unfamiliar- the intensity of it, that is- but Regina wasn't stupid to know that this was a sign, a warning of the _coup de grace_ that everyone raved about. It was foolish, the gossip she heard among her subordinates, how they complained they couldn't achieve a proper climax with their partners. Regina wondered how someone would allow another to willfully yield control of their body. All that strength- the little strength some of these cretins in this town carried- surely something that took years of building can be crumbled in minutes, and for what? A couple moments of pleasure? That didn't make sense to Regina- and it shouldn't make sense to others. Years of triumph and self-glory shouldn't be ignored for a few moments of physical stimulation. It's simple math for the rudimentary.

Oh so she thought.

For someone who was quite ignorant to the mechanics of masturbation, Regina felt like she was doing a good job. Or maybe she wasn't. Maybe a more skillful, thoroughly experienced touch would magnify this incredible feeling. The thought of that theory made her gush a new trail of wetness, imagining a dutifully-skilled Emma thumbing her clit with more coordination, more frequency, while her free hand thrust inside of her, never losing that frantic pace and rhythm she set.

Her moans carried on as she wantonly rode her fingers. The heat now sprinkled through her arms and legs, something Regina hadn't quite experienced before.

Regina never let herself get this far.

Despite this surely euphoric feeling teetering in her, the mayor closed her eyes in shame. As far gone she was, the little portion of her internally scolded for acting on temptation. Sure when she was married to Leopold she had curiosities, pondered at the thought of satisfaction being reciprocated, but her strength showed in her shunning abilities when she put that mere fantasy aside and did her job to service the King. And quite well, she's sure.

Here there's no room to pretend, no room to deny. Her moans mewled with desperation, her body scantily arched into her fingers. Nothing made her feel more disgusted and shameful and desirable than Emma inadvertently did. This was _her _fault. She's thinking these lewd thoughts because of _her. _

But she can't turn back now.

Sparks began to pop under her eyelids and Regina knew her time was thin. So _this _was what people fought for, left their wives and families to achieve.

And as her vision painted with blinks of white, she finally understood. She finally understood the risk of losing one's self just for a few moments of gratification. Because this, this feeling, was absolutely indescribable. Her body tightened and curled in uniform, internally burning yet cooling the blood erratically pulsing through, before it unwind into violent shudders- harsh obscenities slipping low from clenched teeth.

Her moans with Leopold were low and robotic.

She purred for Graham but the stimulation wasn't on her mind; the power she had over the young boy kept her interested.

For Emma.

_Oh, _Emma.

She roared, her authoritative voice cracking from the long note of pleasure eliciting from her. It wasn't just a scream of fury, or even a scream of pleasure. Such a black and white description would be insulting. It was definitely more complex, more layered, filled with hedonism and disdain. Only Emma can get this rise out of her, make her rethink her morals and strength.

Only Emma can have her gushing over her fingers, trailing into her palm and her spread.

Only Emma could possibly make her feel this drained, this weak.

She's not sure if Emma or her own practiced life of repression had her a shuddering mess, tears leaking her face, silently, as if this was a part of her climax.

She's too weak to be in denial, to lash out unjust anger and venom.

Only Emma can make her the women her mother warned her about.

* * *

******I promise there will be 'real Emma' in the next one. I just couldn't resist another go at Regina going solo ;)**

**Also, I wasn't going to have Regina 'finish' so she could even more frustrated being that close, but I actually have a direction on where I want this to go. Reviews are lovely and really helps this muse :) **


	3. Chapter 3

**Happy New Years errbody :) It's a little longer, this chapter, but I figured it's a lil New Years present 'cos I'm broke ( ._.) Fun fact: the 'fantasy' I have in this chapter was going to be an one-shot in itself, but I felt like something that campy had to only be in a dream and it'll be OOC for a Swanqueen kinda fic.  
**

Regina Mills had always been a woman of order. Even in another life, as a Queen, she calculated her manipulation at almost an intensely slow pace, just so her plans can move efficiently. That's how things should be, and she appointed her slightly-compulsive mannerisms to her assistants- the few she cycled around until she fired them due to their incompetence.

So people took notice that she hurriedly paced into her conference meeting fifteen minutes late, her hair fixed but not its usual voluminous shape, her black button up slightly wrinkled, with an unusual flush to her tanned skin.

"My apologies for my tardiness," she said professionally, now at the podium. "It will not be a consecutive issue."

She can see the shifty eyes, the low rasps among each other, but that was brief- _very _brief. These people know her, and they know something was different, but they also fear her, and they are well aware of the people who question her motives and behaviors. She's glad that after all these years- of course years they are oblivious to- she still held the fearful aura of a new mayor, but gave them confidence of a consecutive year winner.

This life wasn't as exciting as a time she used magic as an intimidation tactic, but it was safe and controlled.

That's all she ever wanted.

Emma walked in five minutes after she did, making her _twenty _minutes late; this was at least Regina's first offense unlike Emma's disgusting habit. It was a formal meeting about theft that was becoming a mutual issue among Storybrooke's store owners, so the blonde had on the official Sheriff button-up under her leather jacket.

She's glad that Mister Clark chose to speak out his complaints over his incessant sneezing because Regina had other things in mind. Her eyes inadvertently traveled to the back of the room where Emma stood, thumbs confidently hooked in the front pockets of her insanely- irritatingly, the Mayor might add- tight jeans. She always found the shirt frumpy and over-the-top, a bit self-righteous, on Graham, but Emma brought out the heroism in a respectful manner. The dull khaki gave her huge, blonde curls a bright glow, like a curtain being blossomed with the sun.

_Quit being a fool. You've had your fun, now move on.  
_

Regina blinked back to Granny- who was now speaking of the ketchup bottles gone missing. It was ridiculous, she finally got..._that _out of her system so _Emma _shouldn't be an issue. But her mind still swam with curiosity. Before it was how _it _would feel if she gave herself the opportunity to finish. Now she thought of herself, with accurate representation of that feeling, under Emma, allowing her to manipulate her body in the way she did in her dreams.

* * *

_With Henry at a sleepover, Regina found herself restless and, well, bored. Unfortunately she didn't make much of entertainment when concocting Storybrooke, so for now, she'll settle with a casual drive around town.  
_

_It was dark, a sheet of black coating the sky. This was the only time Regina allowed herself to unwind, indulge a little of her bad side. Not exactly bad, but doing things with light-hearted mischief. She ran a few red lights and smirked at how ridiculous of the giddiness growing in her. She was, is, a Queen who terrorized colonies with just a flick of the wrist, and now here she was softly laughing at a few missed lights and a disregard of speeding laws.  
_

_Boy, have times changed.  
_

_Her childish sort of happiness blinded her usual hyper-vigilance when she ran another red light, unaware of the car looming behind her own.  
_

_She knew it then, when bright red and blue lights flickered and a siren followed.  
_

_Shit.  
_

_Groaning she abide the silent request and pulled over, waiting for the cop to do the same.  
_

_"License and registration, ma'me?" A female peered at her window.  
_

_She didn't need to look to know who it was, but she guessed she needed the confirmation that this was happening right now. The Sheriff had on dark rimmed sunglasses- completely unnecessary but merely for intimidation- along with a large black hat, the khaki uniform shirt with the matching pants, an obnoxious smack of her red-coated lips to finish the ensemble.  
_

_Regina realized the blonde was chewing gum.  
_

_"I'm going to have to ask you step out of the car, ma'me," the blonde pushed, now using the flashlight that was perched to her side.  
_

_The_ _mayor then realized it was one of **those **dreams, where realism was out of the picture, when she found herself abiding the Sherriff's command._

_The blonde started from the bottom, patting her ankles, up the side of her legs, then slowing down as she touched the brunette's thighs beneath the skirt, bunching up the fabric in the process.  
_

_"Sorry, ma'me, you seem to have a suspicious package that needs to be thoroughly searched," Emma said in a low growl, hiking higher.  
_

_The cool fingers danced around where Regina **really **needed to be touched, and the Mayor found herself whimpering in defeat, waving a white flag, anything to show the blonde she needed her inside and fast.  
_

_The blonde's free hand caressed one side of the brunette's curves, her presence sending sparks through her clothing.  
_

_Regina just watched, thoroughly entranced at their exchange, utterly- and shamefully- aroused at the brazen publicity and her complete submission to the Sheriff. She felt the cool air hit her skin when her button-up loosened until it hung against her elbows, chest heaving in a black bra.  
_

_"Sheriff..." She felt she had to say the affirmative title, to keep up the aphrodisiac of having someone yield control.  
_

_The hand between her legs now traced the wet patch of her underwear, sliding up and down, and back up to rub her clit, eliciting low gasps and moans from her._

_And then Emma smiled, that grim look of authority and dominance, and mumbled, hot against Regina's flushed cheeks "Just what I need to crack this case..."  
_

* * *

_"_Madame Mayor?" Granny called out, a bit exasperated. It appeared that she's called her name more than once, when the other store-owners' eyes held that same impatience.

She made a few sharp blinks as she took a breath, feeling the heat around her cheeks.

That fucking dream.

"Need not to worry," she started, slipping into her mayoral voice. "Storybrooke is in need of an upgrade. I'll look in to installing more security cameras in all of those stores, and around them, so if you are not able to catch the culprit in the act, you'll be able to pinpoint the time you're possessions have been stolen. This pest won't be an issue for long."

With practiced and insincere reassurance of her whitening smile, the town seemed to be convinced with unanimous whispers and nods of the head. Granny was first to stand from her seat, then everyone followed suit. Everyone except Emma. The blonde swept to the corner, allowing the town to past but her eyes remained on Regina's, green and wild. It stunned the brunette- a stare that held the intensity of blind rage yet her general expression remained cool and passive- but that was brief. She refused to show the submission displayed in her dreams to be an actuality.

Before a short breath, Regina walked off the stage and down the aisle, purposely adding a little shake of her hips doing so, walking as if she didn't notice the blonde blocking the door, ready to interrogate.

"Miss Swan," Regina mumbled with a curt grin. "If you'd excuse me-"

"You were late." Her raspy voice was dubious, along with her expression and her posture, arms wrapped across her chest.

Emma had that self-righteousness of her father, putting her nose in a business that didn't belong. The blonde didn't even know him, well in a paternal way, that is, but the similarities were striking. The realization made Regina chuckle.

"And you would know with your dilatory record?"

"It's kind of the talk of the town."

Regina figured those imbeciles would chatter amongst themselves, frowning and cackling at the 'perfect' Mayor in a not-so pristine state, forming accusations with no substance. She just didn't think it would be this soon.

"Well, perhaps they need to form a new hobby," Regina replied with a blase expression. "And so can you, like doing your job. Find and apprehend the nuisance that is stealing."

She can see the bolts turning in Emma's head, and the urge to push this...whatever this was, but for whatever reason she relented. "This person seems harmless to me."

Regina arched a perfect brow, her eyes widening just a bit until they returned to cool indifference. "Someone with a flagrant disregard to the law should be deemed harmless? Well I shouldn't be surprised," she chuckled, finding her thought amusing "I figured you'd find some sort of kindred-ship with a common thief."

Her smile grew grim as the blonde tightly clenched her jaw. That was a low blow, and Regina knew that thanks to Sidney's snooping into Miss Swan's past for an upper hand in the mayoral election. But Regina evidently didn't know _how _low the blow was. Even with Emma's eyes intently on her own, they seem to be elsewhere. Shades of emerald recalling events and memories, maybe even regrets of her character as they flickered over her brown. That bite was back on her tongue, ready to parry the apparent attack Regina made, but she cooled down. It seemed harder this time, but her eyes closed for a moment, as if to hush away the nightmares lurking around, then opened, mirroring Regina's look of indifference.

"Look at what they're stealing," she spoke, hands linked behind her back. "Ketchup bottles, pillows, penicillin. Why that? Why not something superficial, something to flaunt or sell- like jewelry?"

"Perhaps that is too difficult to obtain."

"No this kid is smart," Emma shook her head, appearing to slip from the conversation but Regina knew she was nothing but alert. The Mayor hated her for that, her street smarts and intuition that she learned from living on her own, gaining both independence and character, something the Queen a long time ago once wanted- with Daniel, of course. But Regina shoved those ambitions away. There was no point in harboring at the unreachable.

"You think a mere child has the wit to steal all around Storybrooke and remain unseen?" Regina found the thought absurd, but Emma's thinking was certainly...intriguing. The blonde's psyche was complex, despite her simple vocabulary and...wardrobe, and for someone who managed to be irritatingly everywhere, a piece of her had always been far off. Not necessarily out of touch with reality like Henry- well he wasn't _wrong, _but to the oblivious town he was delusional- but a portion of Emma remained unseen, something not even _she_ liked to admit existed. She and the former Queen had that in common.

"And that's why they remain unseen," she grinned, losing the fire in her eyes as triumph took over, "because people underestimate children, think of them as only sugar-craving, impulsive nuisances."

"And that's wrong?" Regina, again, arched a brow, leaning coolly against the back of a chair in the last row. Her combativeness was her nature, but it was unusual, in both worlds, for someone to speak against her, to actually hold a conversation without the fear of being turned into a frog, or, in this town, to be socially and maybe physically attacked. Emma's defiance was a thorn in her back, but a burn that she didn't mind having.

In fact it felt nice, freeing.

"Not in the slightest," Emma's grin widened, as if her thought was the winning argument to their unspoken but well-awared battle. "But that's not what _all _children are about. Children are painfully stubborn and resilient, and well aware of their surroundings. They know adults belittle and undermine them, so they use that ignorance to their advantage. Pretend they are those silly characters who have no idea what's around them. But children have that purity of love and loyalty in them, ignorant of betrayal and turmoil. At least the lucky ones." Her smile faded at that, and so did her eyes as they drifted into the distance, falling into a place she wished she hadn't have knowledge of. Regina knew that look, saw that same pool of sadness and un-wanting wisdom in her own eyes when Daniel was killed. Though she didn't know much of Miss Swan's life- ironically the blonde didn't know much either- she knew she felt that same pain, that same tear to her heart at something she cherished being ripped away.

Apparently she and the blonde were shockingly similar.

"So," Regina cleared her throat, trying to return to the subject, "we are looking for a child?"

"No," Emma said almost sharply to get herself out of the world she slipped herself into. "Not _a _child. Children. But not a pack, like a gang, or anyone looking for recognition or notoriety. It's a small group, a pair, three at the most. One's a protector, dominant, probably older. The other is submissive, but just as loyal...willing to do anything for the other. Probably siblings or strong friends. And judging by the things they're stealing- clothes, food, medicine- they live together. And they're struggling."

Regina didn't have to know Emma's life to feel this incident becoming too close to home for the Sheriff. She felt something, not sadness- Regina still held that same contempt for the blonde's existence in her son's life- but something deep in her gut, perhaps guilt? She was the reason for the separation of her parents. Even with the thought of that possibility, she didn't feel confident in that sole reason. Perhaps she felt a twinge of pity there? Maybe.

"You should give the store owners your theory." Even though Regina had a strange feeling Emma's profile was correct, she couldn't let it be known that she agreed with it. She liked when they were on opposing ends- mainly because it was refreshing to debate with someone just as fearless as she, but that was an assurance, her safety net that she wouldn't get too close or make a fool of herself. Even though that line between them thinned every time they were in the same room, unwinding walls, showing a little of their vulnerability, It was only a matter of time before it disappeared and she'd walk over and do something she'd regret.

Like kiss her.

"So," it was Emma's turn to snap her out of her reverie, "you wanna tell me the lucky guy who keeps you up at night?"

Regina appallingly blinked, set aback by the question. Had she been staring? Well, she knew the answer to that but had it been apparent? Did the blonde catch on to the reason of her daze of stage.

Fuck.

Regina haughtily chuckled, though. She was a woman of politics, with acquired skill to appear not phased by tactless accusations and light rumors. Even though Emma's thought was partially true, her passivity said it was anything but.

"Even though it is not even remotely your business, I'll say that there is no man I am romantically involved with."

"Well there is _somebody _making you late, face flushed with a wrinkled shirt," Emma eased in, eying her with a mischievous glint.

She caught the scent of that hideous leather jacket, and she instinctively stepped back, only for the reminder of the chair behind her. Emma was too close, both literally and figuratively, and Regina felt that imaginary border thinning, dangerously flicking.

This needed to end.

"Everyone has their off days, Miss Swan," she replied coolly after a pause. "I'm sure you can relate." Her response was cold, meant to hurt or at least set Emma back into her place, but the blonde actually snorted as if the remark enticed or answered whatever thought on her mind.

"Not you, Madame Mayor. You always have to look pretty, shine that phony smile for the cameras." Both of them shared smirks with bitterness. "Always have to be on top..." The blonde's eyes fluttered from the brunette's, down to her lips- slowly, a bit coy as if she caught on to how her words could be interpreted.

The moisture in between Regina's legs told her that she understood the suggestive meaning quite well.

"Though I appreciate the profile, Miss Swan," Regina said, a slight scuff to her tone, "it's both unnecessary and incorrect."

Emma chuckled, a light glowing in her green eyes that actually didn't look bitter. She almost looked amused, as if speaking to a mere child with wild delusions but not wanting to crush their naivete. She was treating her like Henry, and nothing irritated her more.

"C'mon, Madame, your life is power. You want everyone to know that you're Mayor-"

"Is that an issue?" It was meant to sound menacing, but her breath hushed when the blonde took another step closer, invading personal space, able to pick up the scent of the blonde's spearmint chewing gum.

"Not at all," she smiled, pleased at the brunette's response. "But that doesn't make it untrue. And you show that to your lovers, to show them that you'll always be above them. But this guy, this lucky bastard," she chuckled thickly, shaking her head as she continued, "he's getting to you. You don't want to admit it, to him or yourself, but you like him, and he's constantly on your mind."

The tables have quickly turned with the brunette's jaw clenched and her eyes on fire, hating the accuracy of the blonde's words. She'd like to say that she hated this, her conscience scolded her for not doing so, but her mind wandered to herself being pressed between her car and the Sheriff's chest. How her hands had knowledge of her body, clarity of the affect they had. How the blonde's...special nightstick glided against her wet folds while her fingers circled a tight bundle of nerves.

The merging parallels of reality and psychosis began to overwhelm her, how many images in her mind flew at an immeasurable pace. She was out of control and the sounds of her gasping moans felt alive in her ears. This needed to end; she needed to leave and relieve this pent up frustration.

"This conversation is over," she hissed, face flushed and her eyes on her fire, giving the Sheriff a short shove to move but the blonde didn't nudge. "Miss Swan-"

"I'm happy for you," she then said, cockiness of her win wiping from her face.

Regina eyed her warily, finding sincerity in those strong features but remained all the more suspicious. "How about you put your gratitude where it's needed, like your job." Regina grinned, internally pleased with the confidence in her voice.

But Emma was unmoved by the steadiness when she continued in her voice of veracity. "Everyone should get a shot at love. _Or..._" There goes that immaturity and smugness, Regina mused, observing the flirtation of a smirk. "... a nice fuck could do wonders. Believe me, that could really help you out..." she mumbled as if it was unintentional, eyes running over her body before traveling up with a playful wink, and finally leaving the room.

The moment she was secure Emma was indeed gone, she let out a long growl, almost out of petulance like a child, as she ran a shaky hand through her hair. She was fuming, breath seeping in short pants from anger and deplorable arousal.

"Fuck you, Miss Swan," she growled out, desperate to release some of that anger even if it wasn't as helpful as she'd planned.

Oddly, though, those words were helpful. Because it was then that she realized that this...obsession, this infatuation, wouldn't go away until she gave in to taste- for lack of better words- the forbidden fruit. That way she can drink the poison for the vaccine to work.

But that meant...having sex with Emma Swan.

* * *

**As understanding as I am with Emma going into FTL(on the show) and exploring new things, she's said some really notso bright things that makes me want to slap her. I tried to give her back her street-smart wit from season one..hope I did it right ._. Annywho, please leave a review. They make me a smile :) Don't be shy :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**There's occasional Emma POV in this chapter, which I've never done before. Not as much as Regina, but just some where it's needed. This was going to be a little more angsty, but after 'The Cricket Game' I think we've received enough pain in one sitting. Um I guess I have to do this? TW: a very, very, brief mentioning of child abuse. You'll blink it's gone, I promise.  
**

After two weeks and four more incidents of theft, the culprits were caught and Regina reluctantly admitted that Emma was correct. About everything. The profile, the age demographic, the number, the bond the two of them share, the fact that they are siblings trying to survive. She only gave the smug blonde a curt 'Congratulations', refusing to side with the woman who seemed to take captive of her dreams. Besides her mind was on other things.

Like how _you need to sleep with Miss Swan to get over this infatuation. _

She knew then in the auditorium- Emma's chest nearly touching hers, minty breath taunting, her heart galloping- that this had gone out of her control. The urge to kiss something that passionately was humiliating and infuriating, and bruised her ego to no end- regardless of people not knowing of this dilemma. It still was, in fact, a dilemma, and it got worse, with each day, with each dream growing with more clarity and perception. The experience was so surreal that Regina had to actually walk around her house to make sure Emma truly wasn't there.

And this really needed to stop.

So she had to sleep...with Miss Swan.

She also had to find a way to figure out of Miss Swan wanted to sleep with her.

But she'll forget that out later when she was alone, and an angry blonde wasn't in front of her.

"Miss Swan, I gave you your congrats. Were you looking for a celebratory apple pie instead?" She asked smoothly, trying to ignore the pale collarbone heaving from her heavy breathing.

"You can't put them in the system," Emma growled, jumping to the point like she always did. Being coy wasn't exactly one of the Sheriff's strong points.

Regina knew this conversation was an inevitable one, with her being the 'bad guy' and Emma opposing to her clinical decisions, but a part of her wished it didn't have to be so soon. It was...refreshing to see a light in the blonde's eyes that wasn't fiery frustration and hatred targeting at her.

"I'm afraid I have no other choice, Miss Swan," Regina responded steadily, ignoring the blonde's dark glare.

Emma always hated that, the nonchalance in the Mayor's face and posture in _every _situation, even if it can ruin lives. Emma could smell it on her; old money with privileged upbringing. That didn't necessarily bother her- sure she's a bit envious but she of all people knew that no one could help where they came from- it's the ignorance Regina held, the sheer oblivion to the hardships Ava and Nicholas will experience and someone like Regina could never truly understand. That's damn irritating.

"Just give me a couple of days."

"They've had enough of those, don't you think?" She put her pen down and stopped whatever the fuck she was writing; apparently that was more interesting than the thought of twins- that have nothing but each other- being separated. "My hands are tied, Miss Swan-"

"What about the father?"

"He's not in the picture. Nothing on their birth certificates," Regina sighed, somehow seeing defeat mix with the fiery expression of green. She knew Emma, unfortunately, and this woman will scratch and claw her way out of anything if necessary, but she also was a woman of honesty and never the one to deny it. Knew it like an open book, and knew damn well that the right thing to do was not always done in justice.

"I promised Ava that she and Nicholas wouldn't get separated." Her voice was sharp and raspy, but Regina saw her eyes shimmer, a clear plea for her to do something, expectant even. It wasn't right, and this wasn't her issue.

"For future references, you should not make promises you cannot keep," Regina said almost in a hiss, she herself knowing quite well the pain of a broken promise, how all of her hopes for happiness and love were destroyed by an act of damaged trust.

Turned out Emma and her mother were a lot alike, as well.

Emma felt a growl growing in her throat, vibrating along with the frantic beat of her heart, but she swallowed it, knowing that she wouldn't get anything out of irrational- it's damn rational, Emma thought with a frown- anger.

"Just give me a few days, Madame," Emma walked up to her desk, clutching the ledge until her knuckles frosted a pale ivory.

Regina once again heaved a sigh, caught up in the swirls of clinging desperation and barely controlled anger in those eyes. She could see where Henry got it from, the defiance and determination mixed with a sad- if the look had a sound, a whimper would come to mind- look to get his way. She almost forgot she wasn't speaking to their, _her__-_ she inwardly scoffed at the mistake- son, and not an almost thirty year old woman.

And just like Henry, despite that small desire to cave in and give him whatever new asinine video game he wanted, she put her foot down, hardening her eyes to show authority. "I'm sorry, Miss Swan, but we must let the justice system take affect-"

"_Justice?" _Emma choked out, a humorless sob mixed with a bitter snort. "Knowingly separating the only family these kids have is _justice?"_

The edge surprised Regina, but she hid it with a purse to her full lips. "Despite your...unfortunate childhood," even with the careful words, Emma shot her a cold, warning glare, "not every child in foster care is destined for a life of turmoil. For all we know, a lovely couple are willing to adopt them both."

Something in that made Emma snap, her fists slamming against the cool cherry-wood. How dare she? How fucking _dare_ she undermine her life as if she knew of it? As if her life of being shipped from group home to group home was a minor issue that could quickly be persevered.

She was too angry to care of the gasp and slight flinch from the Mayor, too far gone to even think of her consequences and the reprimands of her actions.

"A cold bitch like you can't be that optimistically stupid," she growled, fists trembling against the desk. "You know damn well what will happen to them-"

"And that is no longer my concern or issue, Miss Swan. I have a city to run, while you have a city to protect," Regina fired back with the same frustration and annoyance. She didn't like the direction of where the twins were heading, but damn Emma for making it seem so! She stood up, the desk a small border between them, and kept her eyes on those wide orbs.

"I know what this is about," she continued in her threatening tone. "This is because I got in your head at that town meeting."

Regina choked on a laugh. Despite the lack of distance between them, that the Mayor was _well _aware of, the blonde losing her cool while she held poise gave her the illusion of the upper hand. And that was a good thing; she needed control or she just might crash into those arms that was achingly close to her.

"I must say your narcissism surprises me, but your arrogance does not." She almost ended it with _it must be a hereditary, _but considering she wasn't suppose to _know _that information, she left her insult as is.

"Whatever issue you have with me, keep it with me," Emma growled, but her eyes widened in a plea that almost made Regina feel sorry for her.

Emma was willing to put her job on the line for children she did not know, and with no substantial assurance that their father would be found. She didn't know if that was foolish or selflessly admirable.

"I'm sorry, Sheriff," Regina whispered almost apologetically. As if her cold heart could even portray such a sympathetic act, Emma begrudgingly thought. "They are expected to be in Boston around 10 am Monday morning and you could make that time if you depart tomorrow evening."

Emma's anger fumed in short pants, stubborn tears pricking eyes that filled with wrath, disgust, and...pain. She didn't know why, it was stupid to even think so, but there was something different about Regina. Not entirely off to spark suspicion, but something about her seemed to be on edge at a constant rate. Before Emma took it as her way of hiding something dark and cruel. But the deep-sunken eyes and gaunt cheeks told a story of sleepless nights and countless struggles. As if this issue in her life was eating her alive.

How stupid to think that there was something human lying around that cold heart.

"So that's it," Emma's voice wavered, but the disgust was evident, "that's all we do."

"That's all I am capable of doing, Sheriff, and so are you." Her body craved to lean forward, to close the distance and share the fuming heat of the angry blonde, but the brunette's pride overpowered her desire and had her shoulders square with steady eye contact.

"I am sorry," Regina said again, but she knew the blonde didn't believe her when she snorted with incredulity. It was set in her DNA to be wary of the evil queen.

"Bullshit." Emma didn't know if she was referring to Regina's half-ass sympathy, or the situation, or her stupidity for believing that there was something underneath the shriveling bitch she's notorious for, but all she knew was the anger in her. The anger that made her purposely nudge the stack of papers on Regina's desk with her hip as she stormed out of the office.

A part of Regina, the authority-seeking, power-pusher, wanted to trail Miss Swan's footsteps with the same assertion and demand her to pick up her papers along with a brisk _you're fired, _but the woman of today, the woman who's growing more uncertain of herself with each passing day, saw something in Emma that made her sigh and pick up the documents. She could remember that own look in her eyes, all wanton and desperate and passionate for Snow's death, but as time- time the town was blissfully unaware of- passed, that desire lessened to the value of an empty, meaningless grudge of a teenage girl. Unfortunately she could not put it behind her. Snow, after all, was the core reason for all of her decisions, of all her manipulations and murders. She can't forget Snow because she cannot forget herself.

She guessed the same reasoning would apply for Miss Swan. She cannot pretend she didn't see that yearning in her green eyes, that constant need to fulfill something far from her reach. Those emerald eyes were sometimes a mocking of Regina's weaker self- the short temper, the tears of defeat- or a reflection of what she was becoming. She could feel her change, the deliciousness of rebellion when she touched herself. When she purposely let herself finish. But old habits die hard, and the foundation of her very being couldn't- refused to- be shattered by this little girl. So after long minutes of bliss and satiation, a scolding echo of her mother would remind her of how weak and disgusting she was, and even a voice- a dull voice that now seem unfamiliar to herself- would remind herself that Miss Swan is the nuisance to her plan, the Savior, the offspring of a couple she hated.

She could no longer balance the two opposing sides. It was beginning to take affect in her physical appearance- those bags under her eyes were beginning to become harder to hide with makeup. When she'll sleep with Emma, the taste will be experienced and she could move on. Emma surely wasn't the poster girl for commitment so it'll all work.

The hard part was finding out if she liked women, or liked her- quite honestly Regina wasn't interested in Miss Swan's opinion or fondness of her; just as long as she found her attractive enough to sleep with.

* * *

Sometimes Regina felt like Emma had some magic of her own. Was it magic the blonde was aware of? She didn't know. It was damn near impossible how faith and determination seemed to get Emma this far. How it seemed to get Emma _results. _Because somehow she was able to trace the untraceable, and attain the unattainable. Emma somehow was able to find Ava and Nicholas' father, and also convinced him to take home two strangers that shared nothing but familial blood- as if that meant anything.

She kept up a front, though- her lips curtly sealed with her arm protectively hung around Henry's shoulder. But on the inside her mind was in awe, how this woman was able to achieve all of this within impulse. Emma was like a train wreck; loud, obnoxious, destructive, but somehow intoxicating, a painful intrigue, an infatuation that she couldn't look away despite the heavy damage its caused.

"I knew you could do it, Emma!" Henry squealed as he ran up to the blonde, wrapping his arms around her waist as he happily nuzzled his cheek into her torso. He was gone before Regina could clutch his collar tighter, to hold on to the delusion that she was all her son wanted and needed. But he was younger, faster, and he dashed to the uncomfortable Sheriff, oblivious to the pain he's causing his adopted mother. Emma, still stiff in his hold, awkwardly patted his back, letting her hand linger before backing away.

"Mom she really did it. Now Ava and Nicholas won't be separated and they could go to school with me, and we could play video games, but after we finish our homework of course, but I can't wait!" Her son was a blabbering mess of joy and he could barely keep his sentences from tumbling over the other. Regina tried not to have some sort of resentment toward her son and if anything channel that anger to Miss Swan, but she couldn't help it when Henry was outwardly cheerful and Emma awkward and even apologetic.

"It was all their father's doing, kid," she said softly, trying her hardest to calm down her biological son and spare his mother's feelings. "I just put two and two together."

"Exactly, Emma!" He said with a giggle, ignoring his mom's wince behind him and the stiff posture in front. "You saved all of them, and you should get like a cake, or something. In fact..."

"Henry that is _really _not necessary," she said with that same softness, in fear of crushing the boy's spirit, but had undertones of urgency to show her sincerity.

"Hey Mom," Henry glanced over his shoulder with a smile that made Regina's chest ache. "You think you can make like a little cake for Emma tonight?"

"Henry!" Emma warned, almost chastising like an appalled mother. The thought made Regina sick.

"It doesn't have to be that big," he faced the brunette "and I won't eat any tonight because it's late but Emma could have some." His innocence and child-like imp was just as charming and all the more heartbreaking to Regina. She can't hate her child for loving someone else, and she can't bring herself to put yet another frown on his face.

Emma, however, was having none of it.

"Henry," she span him around, kneeling to his level. "You can't just go making plans for other people."

"It's fine, Miss Swan."

For the second time Emma eyed her, a bit sheepish with a faint look of discomfort. Regina guessed Emma could feel the stiffness coming from the woman before her, and it gave off her typical mayoral aura.

Good. Served her right for stealing her son.

"Yay!" Henry broke the moment of brown on green with his excited laugh and tight hug around Emma's neck.

Regina couldn't hide the small grin at Emma's wince, apparently Henry's grasp being a little too tight for the poor Sheriff. Perhaps he was her son again, she thought, widening her grin.

"Henry, why don't you wait in the car." For once he wasn't reluctant with her request- seeing that his precious 'mother' was getting free food. _Again_. He dashed behind her and slipped into the passenger seat of her Mercedes, practically squirming in his seat.

When he was out of earshot, Emma hurriedly whispered, "Madame, it's really nothing. I can buy a cake and tell him you made it and it'll look-"

"Nonsense. My culinary has a signature that my son surely won't recognize in the bland market they call a bakery. A small cake isn't difficult. I could deliver it to you tomorrow."

"Um..." Emma rubbed the back of her neck, trailing her voice. "No offense, but I really would like to know what's _in _that cake before I eat it."

Regina smiled, actually amused as a brow arched just slightly. "Are you implying that I would deliberately put something that isn't edible in my pastry?"

"Well you threw me in jail a few times," Emma snorted, crossing her arms, "framed me for stealing Henry's file. I'm sure other shit I don't know yet. And considering the last we've seen each other weren't exactly on good terms..." She trailed there, eyes fluttering anywhere but in the Mayor's as she scuffed her foot against the pavement.

"I suppose your incredulity is understandable."

"I'm sorry, Regina," she then said, voice a lot softer and calmer than the Mayor's used to. Her big eyes read the same apology, though her facial features remained relatively still.

"There is no need, Miss Swan," Regina responded curtly, stuffing her hands in her coat pockets.

"I was out of line, and I'm surprised I didn't get a pink slip by now," she mumbled, a nervous chuckle leaving her lips.

"Oh, I _thought_ about it," Regina stated, noticing the stiffness in the blonde.

Okay, perhaps she told a small white lie to keep Emma on her toes and to remind her that she was the subordinate. But after today, watching the blonde mentally and literally scurry around, that passion was a sight to see, and Regina had no intention of firing the Sheriff. Not now, that is.

"But you've done remarkable work, and I suppose the positive results can overlook your churlish attitude yesterday."

Emma made a grateful nod, slipping her thumbs in her skin-tight jeans. How the hell _did _she get those on?

"I guess you could drive and I follow?"

"Sure."

* * *

Regina led Emma to the kitchen and after washing her hands, immediately got to work. She felt Emma's eyes on her, watching her mix, sift, and whisk the mix. It was very clinical, as everything in her life, and this was usually done in solitude- Henry would sometimes peek at what's for dinner, but with Emma in town that became a rarity- so it was different to have someone's elbows perched on her island while she was in her zone.

"I'm sorry."

"You already said that," Regina mumbled, mixing the batter with the electronic mixer.

"I know but..." The pause made Regina look up to find a furrowed brow over those green eyes. "You just don't get it."

She let out a sigh, returning her attention to the mixer, trying not to make the yellow batter too flat. "For what it's worth," the mayor said after a pause, "I wouldn't have taken pleasure of having Ava and Nicholas separated, despite your opinion."

"I never said..." Emma stopped herself because she _did _make strong implications that Regina was using the heartbreak of the twins to avenge her ego back in the town meeting.

"I don't have to be Archie to know that you think I'm heartless. Well I'm not. I just...need to keep this town in order, and that sometimes means I have to file commands I am not fond of."

Emma chuckled, but not exactly a friendly one. "I don't know how you do this thing. If I was Mayor...I would've stashed them at Mary Margaret's until I figured something out. Just...those two couldn't handle it in foster care alone."

Regina poured the batter into the aluminum pan, watching the golden liquid ripple and tousle into the circular shape. She finally looked up to see Emma's eyes elsewhere, elbows perched on her island as she gazed at the oven. This wasn't the annoying Emma that was a thorn in her side, or the overtly sexual woman in her dreams. This woman was new, but she wasn't unfamiliar. Regina could almost sniff a lonely soul.

"And what makes you think that?" She asked in the kindest way her voice was capable of. Regina didn't know what it was, perhaps the kindred-ship of a broken heart, but she needed to know more about Emma's suffering.

Emma furrowed her brow eying her suspiciously, as if the thought of Regina sparking conversation outside of Henry was hard to grasp on.

Well a month or so ago, that would hold some truth.

Moments later the blonde finally relented and heaved a sigh. "You saw Nicholas in there. He doesn't seem to breathe without looking at Ava. I didn't get the control vibe from her, but he's use to her protection, and to have that slip away abruptly... they'd tear him apart."

"You make it sound like a prison."

When Emma snapped her neck in her direction, Regina felt that line cross. She hit a nerve, again, and this time it wasn't intentional. It seemed as if something in her cracked, and a slew of insults and expletives were to flow from her mouth, but Emma took a deep breath and that fire was gone.

It wasn't gone but it was hidden; something she and Regina can do quite well.

"Well it's no Bel Air."

With the contents of the cake successfully mixed, the only thing left was the actual baking process. Emma held down the large oven door while Regina slid the pan inside, and as the blonde pushed up the door, her white tank rode up to reveal a strip of her hip and something else entirely new to the Mayor.

"What is that?" Regina asked curiously, eyes still on her hip.

She didn't watch the blonde follow her eyes, but did see a glimmer of mischief when she responded. "It's called a tattoo, Madame. They don't teach you that at fancy ivy leagues?"

The Mayor rolled her eyes at the childish smirk, but returned her attention to the small ink. She was always fascinated with body art as a child, always found the intricate lines and curves on the canvas of a body absolutely beautiful. Of course she couldn't, or wouldn't, have one with her mother around, but the thought of having a mark permanently branded onto her skin stroked that internal rebellion of her's. And the fact that Emma had one, maybe even more in _secretive _places, churned a fire at the pit of Regina's belly.

"Did it hurt?"

"I mean a little...by the bone here..." To demonstrate Emma shimmied her jeans- how she could even _move_ them were beyond Regina's knowledge- and pointed to the curve of the circular art.

As more skin was revealed, Regina noticed smaller, finer lines within the thickly bordered circle. It looked like a medallion or some sort. "What is it?" she asked, just to make sure.

Her hand reached out on impulse, aching to caress the smooth skin and the ridges of a hip bone, but recanted mid way, remembering this was quite real and not a dream. Not a place to willingly degrade and humiliate herself with shameless, sometimes, painful sex.

"God relax, it doesn't bite," Emma grinned grabbing the hand that scurried away, grasping shaky fingers and slowly bringing it down to the warmth of skin. "It's just a pendant that was given to me by a friend when I was in the system."

Brown eyes dragged up to wistful green, and a small grin touched the Mayor's lips. "It must hold some importance to you if it's on your body as a reminder." She let her hand rest on her upper thigh, unable to leave the muscle moving beneath it. A red-coated nail lightly circled the inner line of the circle, and her eyes remained on Emma's, watching her smile quiver before it faltered all together. If Emma noticed the light caress on her semi-exposed hip, she didn't mention it.

"When I was twelve I was sent to this family in Texas. I, uh, usually keep to myself. There was no point of making friends...you leave, they leave, which ever is quicker. But there was this one boy, he was a big charmer...smug bastard." The words were harsh but the blonde's smile was warm, actually reaching her eyes.

Regina felt her own grin coming along.

"He'd never let anything get to him. Even though his father..." Regina tilted her head curiously at the pause, but remained patient, continuing to caress the soft skin of the pale hip. It seemed to make the blonde feel better and for some reason, that made her own heart flutter. "He was fucked up. He liked...he liked little girls."

The Mayor's touch chilled to a stop, as did the muscle underneath the finger. Her eyes stayed on Emma's, flickering, searching for something, anything to tell her that she misunderstood what was said, but all she found was a hollow hole- a now lifeless shade of green. "Emma..." It was the first time she said her, and it was shaky and foreign on her tongue. It wasn't a cold _Miss Swan _or _Sheriff _or _that woman_. That was safe to her, but not to the blonde.

"Don't worry," she shook her head, as if to assure the brunette that the topic wasn't a delicate one. "He didn't do blondes. I was safe...for a while." Another shake of the head and Emma was back, the brisk, mysterious Sheriff that no one knew much about. It was a horrible facade, Regina realized, but she'll pretend she's oblivious for the sake of the blonde's pride. "I noticed he only went for brunettes and I thought I could sleep...but he crept in the girl's room and walked over to my bed... I thought this was my turn. I'd turn into those girls with no soul...but there he was." Despite the shimmer in her eyes, the quiver of her lips, she pushed for a smile and it came out wobbly. "He had a lamp and he bashed his head, Greg- that was his name. He hit him again, and he told me to run and to never look back...and he'd find me."

"Why," Regina had to clear her throat, surprised by the waver, before she tried again, "why did you have to run? This man was a pedophile, I don't... you could've called the police."

Emma rolled her eyes, as if speaking to a child who's unable to remain still, losing patience by the second. "It doesn't work like that, Regina. I fucked up before...it would've been the gracious dad versus the bitter orphan. Running was the only way out. And I did...I ran for a while, hitched a ride and more rides and ended up in Tallahassee. When I got into...trouble, the police confiscated the necklace and it got 'lost in evidence'. That was the only thing I had of him... The medallion was gone but my memories of him will always be with me. The tat is just a reinforcement."

The mention of a tattoo brought her back to earth, where her hand slipped effortlessly into Emma's hips as if they belonged there. She gasped, shocked to find it still there, shocked to not even notice it there at all. Emma's skin was dangerously comfortable to her, hell Emma in _general _had an ease to Regina. And that terrified her to no end.

"I'm sorry," Regina stepped back, folding her arms as she looked to the floor. She'd like to think she was only apologizing for Emma's traumatic, but it was more than that. She's sorry for ever getting this close, for wanting to touch and console the blonde, for changing her morals because of the woman before her. She's sorry for a lot of things she can't bring herself to say.

"S'kay, no biggie. How are you, though?"

Regina narrowed her eyes, tilting her head inquisitively at the random question. "I'm doing alright."

"No you're not," Emma replied, matter-of-factly, moving closer, staring intently at the Mayor. "You're tired, haven't slept well in a while...but I know you won't tell me what's wrong."

The gaze stilled Regina in her boots, but resilience was her specialty. "There is simply nothing to tell, Miss Swan."

"It's Emma," she whispered. "No one's around. You could call me Emma."

"Okay..._Emma_-"

"We should go out."

The Mayor blinked, her brow shooting to her hairline. "I-I'm sorry?" Had she been that obvious?

"Yeah, you know. Like go to a club, or something. God knows you need to unwind. Me too, even."

Ah, purely platonic. Even though that was a safe answer, the disappointment weighed on her chest. "I'm sorry, Miss- Emma, I don't do clubs. I am a little too old for that," she smiled politely.

"C'mon! We'll go to Boston so no one can know the rigged Mayor wants to take a night off."

"Miss Swan-" She can't even finish her thought, but at least she was shaking her head. This was absolutely ridiculous. There was no way she'd socialize- socialize with _her. _

"Whatever is bothering you, Regina, isn't going away. I can see it...and I know you won't seek help. But a night to forget could do you well. I mean _look _at you." Emma nearly hissed in disapproval, and the brunette appallingly checked her own appearance.  
"You're so stiff you just might burst into dust. C'mon...one night won't hurt. Just you and me. I need this too..."

Now she could see where her son got that big, puppy-eyed look from. The crooked, nearly sheepish one-sided grin, along with those orbs of warmth, care, and a bit of mischief.

Regina was definitely changing.

Because the former evil queen nodded her approval.

* * *

**Yes I know this fic was suppose to be short but this is my first Swanqueen and OUAT fic, and this is my baby and I am not ready to see it grow. I mean, we're going to get somewhere but I don't think it'll end in five chapters like I thought before. Annnywho, review for chapter five :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**Oh my god, thank you all for your reviews(and even those lurkers, yeah I see you!)  
**

This was absolutely ridiculous, Regina thought with a frown. When she accepted Emma's offer, she took it as a half-ass political promise that was never to be fulfilled. She didn't think the blonde would be knocking on her door three days later on a Saturday evening.

She thought about leaving the woman behind, hell even considered it deeply with sincerity, but this was something she needed to do. The more she shunned and denied the blonde, the stronger her body craved her. The nightmares had gotten worse with the knowledge of Emma's tattoo, thoughts of digging her nails into the ink, tracing the patterns with her tongue nearly killed her with frustration. It turned out she wasn't as in-tuned with her body as she thought she was, and she was usually more successful in finishing when she was asleep. Well that was before, when the desire to touch was _only_ in her sleep. Now it was a passing thought during her paperwork- where she envisioned Emma taking her on the very desk she worked on- or whenever she caught a glimpse of the blonde sipping on her cocoa, how suddenly envious she was of that damn cinnamon and whipped cream she slithered with that tongue.

And what really terrified her, what had her frozen as the third set of knocking took place, was the strong implication that Emma _knew _what was going on. Of course that was unlikely and it was just her own paranoia speaking volumes to her conscience. Still though, Emma had proved that she wasn't the dull-minded delinquent she prejudged her to be; there were layers to her that was known yet unable to be seen. Just a shadow of the younger woman existed for Storybrooke; the courageous Sheriff, the concerning friend, the defiant enemy. Yet the woman in her kitchen a few days ago was someone else, someone broken but still painfully insightful and vulnerable. Emma already knew something was wrong, or not _right_, with Regina; it was inevitable for this perceptive blonde to catch on her _true _distress. And that was terrifying, worse than facing death.

"Damn it, Regina, I can see your feet!" Called the obviously disgruntled Sheriff from behind the front door. When did she even get down here, she thought with a shake of the head. That was the problem right there; she could be so deep in thought, thinking about her, that she done things with tunnel vision.

With a sigh and a brush to her neatly pressed dress, Regina opened the door to find the impatient blonde with her hands on her hips.

"I'm sorry, dear, I was-" her voice trailed until it pacified completely at the sight of the blonde in a different element she'd ever seen. She wasn't the annoying stranger or impulsive Sheriff or vulnerable foster child; she was the vision of confidence in her tight jeans, crimson button up- sleeves folded to the elbow, with three buttons loose; pale cleavage peeking with each breath just to hide in the fabric after the exhale- with her typical combat boots to the height of her knees. Regina had to remind herself to blink so her eyes wouldn't stay glued to glorious abs, or equally toned and shapely thighs, or deceptively long legs, or pert breasts that nearly strained in the tight top...

_Oh god. _

It's when Emma disapprovingly shook her head, rolling her eyes a bit, she knew she overstepped their boundaries. "See I knew this was going to happen," she said, her tone snide and obvious as if explaining a child's typical, mischievous behavior to an adult. "You're _not_ wearing that."

Regina snapped out of her trance, brows knitting as she tilted her head. It was then she noticed a dark rim around green eyes, purposely smudged just enough to make the color a stark gray mixed with many hues at the irises. They were tantalizing but she refused to be belittled like a child. "What is wrong with my appearance?" she asked accusingly, taking a brief look for herself as if it was her closing argument to the deliberation of the obvious. Her black dress tailed into a pencil-like fit, respectively an inch above her knee, and her black Louboutins gave her already-toned calves some definition. Flattery was never a trait of hers, she had people who was rather vocal of her aesthetics as a Queen, but she had to admit she looked damn good. And damn that woman for making her think otherwise!

"Absolutely nothing," Emma walked in, conversing as if she did not glower at her wardrobe just a second ago. "It's just that... it's too much like you," she then refaced the brunette, leather jacket folded in the inside of her elbow.

"I don't want, nor know how to be anything otherwise."

"Oh yeah you do," there she went again with that factual note. "But I am not taking out the Mayor tonight, so you can save that mask for tomorrow." She stepped closer, boots clashing with the wild beating of the brunette's heart. "Tonight it's just two friends-"

"_Friends?" _Regina couldn't help but chuckle, but it didn't have the sour taste like she thought it would. "Last time I checked _friends _don't bring down your tree with a chainsaw." Again her voice didn't hold the contempt that it usually would bring; in fact it was the opposite- light and teasing.

Emma took it as a joke as well, smirking loosely as she ran a hand through her thick, blonde curls. "I guess I wouldn't want to be besties with someone who punched me in the face. 'kay how about this," when she moved closer the humor drained from the Mayor's face, throat swallowing the anxiousness that secretively rose inside of it. "How about two women with a common interest...to blow off some steam."

Regina paused, pursing her lips as if the blonde's sulky voice didn't affect her. As if it was a business proposal.

As if it was that simple.

"I suppose that's appropriate."

* * *

"Absolutely not!" Regina began to hiss, but it was no use. Emma had a steady hand in the center of her back, forcing her to walk forward.

"You look great-"

"I look like a whore!" Regina finally shoved from Emma's hold and turned on her heel, frowning at the blonde.

"Stop being afraid-"

"Afraid of what? Of people's implication of me because of my solicitous appearance?" She growled, irritated by the skirt she was wearing- a tailor's mistake in measurements that she didn't get a chance to throw out. Instead of the hem touching her knees like her other respective outfits, the fabric clung just below her ass and if she wasn't mindful of how she was moving, one could see her red lace panties. The shirt, however, didn't bother her. It was a plain, but somehow regal looking, white button up with a medium-sized collar.

"Afraid of you," Emma whispered looking down, lingering at her legs before traveling back to her face, taking her sweet time in the process. "There's a reason why you didn't throw out that skirt...and that's what you're afraid of. Well, we're gonna let that out tonight."

Regina searched the blonde's face, not entirely sure what she was looking for. Perhaps some mischief or deceit, but there was none. There wasn't even the immature humor that she was fond of but familiar with. Just a cool plane of raw sincerity. And that candidness mixed with those brilliant eyes had her nodding dumbly, afraid of her voice.

"Good."

* * *

The loud, boisterous music shook her the moment they walked in the strobe-lit arena. With two hours of near silence, save from a few curious questions from Regina that was immediately shot down by Emma, her mind gotten use to the tranquil car ride and to have it abruptly ruptured by a song she hadn't even heard of her alarmed her.

"Miss Swan-"

"What did I tell you?" She yelled only to be heard over the booming music.

It was when Regina recalled her words she rolled her eyes. "_Emma_," she corrected pointedly, also speaking over the club bass. Emma didn't say much during the ride but she had a couple of rules; no authoritative title names, the typical 'never let your drink out of your sight' while Regina replied curtly, 'wouldn't plan on it'. Though it was insulting that the Sheriff would find the older woman that naive, she found the stern expression chivalrous...and quite endearing.

Of course she wouldn't tell her that.

If the blonde's personality could be put in a setting this would be it, Regina mused with disdain. The place was loud, filled with smoke and sweat and people grinding on each other as if their lives depended on it.

"Where in the hell have you brought me," Regina hissed, thinking her voice wouldn't be picked up from the music but the blonde chuckled, shaking her head. "I'm having difficulty deciding if I should critique your lewd preference of 'enjoyment', or throw condoms at these sex-craved neanderthals,"

"You know you don't carry condoms."

"Evidently neither do you, _dear," _she sneered.

"Ha-ha unwed, unplanned, pregnancy jokes," Emma rolled her eyes, seemingly unaffected by the fairly light insult. "So I'm gonna put some drinks in you to make you a little enjoyable."

The blonde peeled them through the mass of sticky dancers, keeping a tight grip on the brunette's bicep as they made their way to the bar. Unfortunately it was Saturday, Emma informed Regina, and the bars were usually packed to the brim. So when they managed to find two stools it was at the end of the island, and Emma had to get up and request the drinks, leaving her alone beside irritating, unruly people and their laughter.

"Hi!" A young brunette peered from behind, swooping in front to arch a questionable brow at the vacant stool. "Is this seat taken?"

The brunette was tall, leggy in a tight blue mini that left little to the imagination, with dark crimson coating her full lips. She fairly resembled Ruby, the promiscuous little tramp at Granny's, save the dark gray eyes.

She caught herself staring at a taut stomach, muscles she surely knew was quite feminine, on to a healthy chest are that made her pink tongue swipe against her lower lip, then on to gray eyes and an approved smirk.

"I'm Wren," she said, taking the Mayor's slightly stunned expression as as invitation to sit, extending a tanned hand with a small smile.

Regina eyed the sign of friendliness, brow perched questionably as she returned the greeting. "May..." It was when she recalled Emma's words- _I'm not taking out the Mayor tonight- _that she realized how robotic she typically sounded. She could feel the _Mayor Mills _on her tongue, calm with practiced authority, but she stopped herself before it became intelligible. Maybe Emma was right. A night away from Madame Mayor to get to know Regina- whoever that was anymore- could do her some good.

"Regina," she corrected, widening her smile, hoping the younger woman didn't feel her hesitance.

She visibly relaxed when the brunette kept her smile. "What a pretty name. Can I buy you a drink?"

The Mayor blinked, seemingly surprised by the compliment. Wren had a straightforwardness to her in a way that reminded her of Emma; very aware of her physical beauty, even borderline cocky with it that should irritate her but simply kept her intrigued.

_Speaking of Miss Swan... _

"Sorry that's not very necessary," Regina smiled politely. "My friend actually went to the bar for some drinks."

_Miss Swan is your friend now? Interesting. _

"Friend?" A dark, penciled-in brow arched just slightly. "As in... _boy _friend?"

Regina laughed, softly shaking her head. "No, nothing like that." She didn't know what it was about this woman that made her this coy. Perhaps it was the environment she was in, clearly foreign to the regal woman while this twenty something girl- if _that_, Regina mused- held an ease that showed her familiarity and comfort to this place.

"Good," she smiled, a triumphant one that bordered to something wolfish. It sent a shiver down the mayor's spine.

They continued in conversation with Regina half-listening to the girl's raspy voice, too occupied in raking her eyes over her practically exposed body. She caught little glimpses of _art major _and _day off _and _wanting to relax,_ but it was all a blur within the brunette's beauty. Every now and then when she caught herself lingering over a particular _portion _of the taller girl's body, she blinked up, appalled at herself. It's unfortunate enough that she had to deal with Emma's new-found allure, she really didn't need another body to stalk. But try as she might, her heart raced at the not-so subtle arch of Wren's back, nipples teasing but not fully exposed through the thin fabric.

Finally up to the soft features of the leggy woman's face, Regina made a responding smile, not exactly sure of the subject of their conversation anymore. All she could do was stare and admire, and maybe envy a little. That this girl had a long life ahead of her, filled with love and prosperity and mistakes and lessons learned. And also the resilient body only one of youth can have with ease, or little to no effort.

_Yes, her body helps a lot... _

"Why haven't I seen you here before?" she asked in a bit of a purr, sipping a pink drink she had clutched in her hand.

"Oh, well, I'm not all for clubs. In fact I was dragged here by my friend because apparently I need to blow off steam," she rolled her eyes, still not used to that word on her tongue- hear it in her voice. She hadn't had a friend in a while; sure she had a few acquaintances, public figures for certain favors, puppets like Sydney to fulfill her every command, but not a friend.

She's not sure if she ever had a true friend since Daniel.

"Even though I don't know him or her, I have to agree," she nodded, long brown curls bouncing against her shoulders. "You look very..." gray eyes rolled as she pondered her thought "... distracted. And not the good kind. You should relax!" She's back to that gleaming smile patting the Mayor's crossed leg with a small hand. It's not the first time the younger woman's done that, Regina noted, but she didn't think much of it, figuring the woman's extroversion was common.

The person walking behind Wren, however, didn't seemed to be thrilled. "God I had to stand there, nearly getting felt up by some sweaty douchebag for these damn drinks," Emma said with a huff, handing Regina a cold glass filled with clear liquid.

The blonde stopped her thought and shifted her gaze to the Mayor's companion, apparently not just a neighbor to Regina's seat.

"Hey," she said, not as exactly friendly with her tone, but not sharp enough to be rude.

"Hello," Wren replied with the same merit, eying the blonde with a slight brow arch, as if the questions in her head were finally answered.

Regina watched the silent scene from the sidelines with a wandering eye, a little awed by the disinterest reading from the Sheriff. Again, Emma being coy wasn't exactly her forte and Regina should've expected this, but she couldn't help the giddiness ready to form in the back of her throat, finding it endearing that the blonde wasn't thrilled at the thought of someone else having the mayor's attention.

"Wren," Regina butted in before these two women burned themselves with their glares, "this is Emma. The friend who so kindly took her sweet time getting me my drink."

"Okay, Madame, with that attitude you could get your next drink on your own with risks of getting your ass groped."

She rolled her eyes, now shifting to the eerily quiet brunette. "And Emma, this is Wren, someone who's helped me cope with your lengthy duration with pleasant conversation."

The thin woman smiled in response.

"Yeah, thanks for keeping my seat warm," Emma continued in that off-putting tone, taking a rather large sip of her own beer.

"No problem," Wren kept her smile, though Regina could sense the tightness of it. "Maybe you can watch Regina's so we can go dance?"

"I'm sorry?" Regina coughed, a part of it from her unexpectedly strong drink and the other from the younger girl's audacious request. She'd grown use to her slightly alcoholic but comfortable taste of cider; not the sharp, bitter stinging of vodka.

"Oh yeah," she now looked at the Mayor, falling back into the chirpy woman she was initially acquainted with. "You said that you were a little stressed. I figured a little dancing could help and I was going to ask but..." She then turned to her side, throwing the blonde a glance, apparently no longer coy about her dislike for Emma's presence "your _friend _came along." Her gray eyes were back on brown, easing into that jovial spirit, seemingly ignoring the blonde- as if her request wouldn't be shot down. Wren seemed like a girl who gotten everything she wanted just by her charm alone.

"Gee, _Wren_, it's eleven o' clock," Emma said, finally letting out the growl she could no longer suppress. "Isn't it past your bedtime?"

"Excuse me," the brunette frowned, arching her brow as she stood from her stool, the perfect height to look the blonde square in the eye without any difficulty.

"Miss Swan!" Regina hissed as well, forgetting their rule and falling back into their old dynamic.

"_Madame_," Emma added with familiarity and ownership, eyes never leaving the blonde's. "Ya see, usually she calls me Miss Swan when I bend her over the table, and I call her _Madame _when she gives me the cane for being a naughty girl."

Her mind screamed to hiss at the blonde, blinking appallingly at obvious and unnecessary lies, but her mind traced to an infuriated Sheriff thrusting strong hips into her ass, forcing her in a nearly ninety degree angle, hiking up her skirt to take her in the most forbidden place, having her scream and groan _Miss __Swan _until her voice roared with want and soreness.

_Dear lord. _

Shaking her head she finally saw the tall brunette scoff as she grazed past Emma, Regina knowing without a doubt that the shove was intentional, until she swallowed into the dance floor a few feet from them.

"What the hell was that?" Regina finally regained her composure, growling as the blonde sat in the now vacant seat.

"She was annoying," was her simple response along with a shrug, as if it all stemmed from actual fact.

"She was polite!" Regina hissed back, though she had to hold back a chuckle at Emma's indifference. "I cannot say the same for you."

"Oh yeah, she was _real _polite," Emma bounced her brow as she took another healthy swig of her beer.

"That's what...that's what I just said."

The blonde put her drink down, eying her for a long moment where Regina could describe as a mixture between stupidity and shock. "Regina...she was flirting with you," she said, almost annoyed that she had to point it out.

Immediately blush tainted her tanned cheeks and neck, and her hand trembled against the cold glass of her drink. "She was just being nice." It sounded like a lie, a betrayal, and she cast her eyes down to her drink, circling the rim with her index finger. It shouldn't feel like that. Emma was nothing but the pain to her existence, but it felt...uncomfortable talking about potential romances with her. She couldn't put an explanation to it as of now, but she knew it just felt...unnerving.

"She was being nice so you could take her home."

"You think...you think so?" She felt like a little girl, digging into her mother's makeup with piqued interest but aware of the wrongdoing. Asking Emma for..._anything, _felt like such a wrong thing to do. Especially something that should be obvious like anything-but-subtle Wren.

Emma must've sensed her hesitance and embarrassment, taking the matter seriously and sensitive, as it truly was. She just nodded, taking a smaller sip of her beer. "Remember you're not the Mayor. No one's scared of you here. In Boston you're just a hot, sexy woman in a club. And sleezebags and sluts are looking to score."

Compliments: Regina never took them well. Praise, approval, power, usually nurtured by fear and her authority, was her forte. But hearing Emma, the fearless Emma who still didn't care what the Mayor was capable of, said something positive. And seeing her brash attitude and stoic emotions, it must've been true when small glimpses of vulnerability seeped through. Just the thought made her bite back a smile. "I don't think so..." Regina tried to say, subconsciously parrying the kind- well it wasn't _kind_, perhaps _thoughtful _was the proper explanation- words so she can't think behind them, read into something that wasn't there. So she didn't end up urging for something more than superficial lust.

"And to think one of the first of _many _threats you've said to me was that I didn't know what you're capable of_. _Evidently you should be telling yourself that because, Madame Mayor," and it was then Regina's heart raced at Emma standing up, leaning over to tease her mouth over her ear, the acrid whiff of beer hitting the brunette's nostrils, "you're not aware of what that skirt could do to people."

Emma was definitely close enough to catch the Mayor's shiver, the tightening of her near-empty drink within her hand, the small gasp that slipped from red-coated lips, but she was noble enough to ignore it as she sat back in her seat with a small grin. That sloppy, one-sided expression that she's seen in her son so many times. It brought a smirk to her own lips.

"Would you like to dance, Miss Swan?" It wasn't her usual authoritative remark, a reminder of the roles they play daily, the 'good' sheriff, or 'cold' Mayor, but simply a request a shy- oh dear she say it- friend, hoping they're not shut down. She can now understand the reluctance in men when asking a woman out.

And with that Emma tossed her head back, downing her drink, Regina's mouth nearly watering as she stayed aligned with the long column, slithering like a snake to take in the drink. It's so pale, perfect, even with the dust of freckles she'd never noticed before, and it's taking all of Regina's willpower to not snip at it, just to feel that quiver, that shudder of breath as she tainted the ivory to a deep purple.

She snapped her eyes to calm, slightly glassy green, briefly shaking her head- as if on instinct- at her tawdry desires. It had to be the alcohol, she thought with a groan, awaiting for Emma's response. She'd never been this forward, and within her fantasies Emma had always been the confidant, the domineer who took control of her body and situation- regardless of the position. So for her to think of such a thought, a stimulating desire despite its peculiarity, of actually taking charge to making the blonde reduce to a shuddering of nerves and raw moans and begging, proved something.

Regina's definitely changing.

And for once, she didn't mind the thought.

* * *

**Kay I decided to split the club chapter into two parts because, well, I wanted to add a lot more and that would be a really big chapter. Also I liked a little Jealous/Protective!Emma a lot :) So bear with me people :) Let me know what you think in a review, por favor. They're my drug of happiness since I can't afford recreational drugs. :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**Oh my god, you guise! *inserts gif of Jennifer Morrison clenching her heart in that pretty one strap dress* I did not expect that massive response from my last chapter. Thank you so much, seriously, all of you :) I can't even make something witty- not like I did before but WORK WITH ME HERE- because I am really touched :) Okay, I stop talking and you get to reading!**

**But seriously, thanks! :') Oh, and I don't own the little lyrics of Lana del Rey's _Yayo _I put in there. I don't really like songfics so I put very little actual lyrics in here.  
**

It was easier for Regina to stomach the company of sweaty, provocative young dancers when she had three drinks in her. The jitters of her anxiety settled as the warmth of the alcohol fogged her bloodstream, buzzing with each blink, step, or any sort of movement. She wasn't a lightweight, but the lack of strong alcohol in her life gave her a fairly low tolerance of it. She was tipsy, but not tumbling. Courageous, but not overtly arrogant or stupidly revealing. _Perfect. _

"You don't want another drink?" She slurred to the blonde who was lifelessly swaying to a song she apparently hated.

The Sheriff shook her head, a gold curtain swinging off her moving shoulders. "I'm on an one drink minimal. Someone has to take your drunk ass home."

"I am not _drunk_!" Regina hissed but as if it was on cue, she slurred over her words and stumbled against the blonde's side.

The Sheriff laughed victoriously, but looped a protective arm around her waist to cushion the fall to her chest. "So what were you saying?" She teased, but Regina's only reply was an indignant swear, mumbled into the blonde's shirt.

Okay scratch that; she was tumbling, a little more than tipsy.

Or too comfortable being in the cage of the Sheriff's body.

The ease and falter in Regina's posture alarmed her. How her body just sank into the taller woman's touch, reveling in the thundering beat of her heart, and the soft swell of her breasts against her cheek, as if she'd been doing this her whole life.

This was bad.

Of course this would spark worry in Emma. After all this _was _Regina and it was nothing like her to nuzzle- actually _nuzzle __- _her nose against the smooth cotton of red fabric, completely unguarded and unfazed by the sure repercussions of her indulgence.

"Regina?" She didn't nudge from the embrace like the Mayor thought she would, like it was taught from a child that any form of affection would be torn from her, but she tilted her head to try aligning her green eyes with glassy brown.

"I've never been to a club before," she confessed, hoping that the music drowned out the softness of her voice. She didn't know why she revealed that, surely that wasn't the blonde's expectation of an answer, but she just felt the admission sizzle faster than her slurring mind could capture. "Mother wouldn't allow it," she then added, voice even smaller. Of course clubs weren't in existence when she was in her Cora's grasp, but it was merely symbolism for everything held dear to be snatched from the older woman. Daniel, horseback riding, her innocence and purity. They all fell under the 'club' category, in this case.

Emma tried not to show much of a reaction, and she succeeded save for an eyebrow raise. Regina had never spoken of her parents before- or any family aside from her condescending bite of her possession over Henry- and the blonde figured she didn't have any. Obviously biologically speaking there were two people who made her, but Emma figured they either died, the brunette didn't see the point of mentioning- seeing they weren't what you would consider _bosom buddies- _or she purposely kept them out of her life. And with the brunette's faltered gaze, she figured the latter held some truth and for a legitimate reason. _Wouldn't **allow** it? _She did not like the sound of that.

"Well," Emma patted the waist grazing her hand, partly to shaken the brunette out of the dark path that the Sheriff could see her going, and to get her back to her irritating but familiar condescending self, "there's a first time for everything."

Regina didn't know what to expect from Emma, and she's not sure if she's thrilled by the response. But she's glad for the change of subject, or the overlooking of her uncharacteristic vulnerability when the blonde smiled- a full gleam that shone in her green eyes.

It warmed her thudding heart.

"You _did _ask for a dance, Madame Mayor," she drawled, pretending to be oblivious to the small circles drawing the base of her spine. She couldn't for long, though, eliciting a shiver when the brunette's nail ghosted a particular spot that always made her purr like a satisfied cat, snuggled in its owner's lap.

When Regina felt the vibration against her temple, a warmth spread through her; a buzzing tinge that she knew had nothing to do with the alcohol.

She definitely wanted to hear _that _again.

"I am always a woman of my word, Miss Swan," she returned to the features of utter poise, pursing her lips at the incredulous face the Sheriff made. "Okay perhaps not, but I assure you that I won't miss the opportunity of seeing you gravel the dance floor with your two left feet."

"That's not nice," Emma gasped, dramatic with her mock offense, but was pleased that the Mayor who had made it her business to be that stick up her ass since they've first met, return. "And besides...you've never seen me dance."

"I've seen you walk, Miss Swan. The evidence is nearly palpable." She's forgotten the authoritative rule, they both have, but it seemed that Emma didn't care. Besides, their moods were light teasing; not the usual condescension mixed with an underlying threat that didn't go unnoticed by either party.

"Guess I gotta prove you wrong, then."

* * *

When Regina was Leopold's wife, her sense of fun and exhilaration had been shackled down to her grand bedroom. She rarely ridden on her horse, aside from royal visits with her arms wrapped awkwardly around her husband's plump stomach. There was little time to do any of her 'commoner'- as mother would call it- quirks when she was forced to town meetings, and royal luncheons, and babysitting his brat daughter, and fulfilling regal responsibilities she didn't want nor was prepared to do. And even with Leopold dead, those burdens still bonded her into the stoic mayor she was today. Recluse, head-strong, and so very scared at the mere thought of any pleasure being ripped before her very eyes.

So when Regina felt the music, and the alcohol- and it was a lot of that, she thought with a sloppy smile- tickle her anxiety, she couldn't believe how free she felt dancing with Emma. Glee and joy radiated with each sway her hips made, each arm curving behind her head to raking fingers through dark hair as a punctuation. She'd almost felt eighteen again, all wide-eyed and oblivious smiles as she moved with her companion. A very sexy companion, she purred in thought, taking a step back to admire the beauty in front of her.

Turned out Swan did have a gracefulness that she hid with everything's she done. Her trim waist swerved to the song she didn't know, all in fluid motions, holding purpose to the move that followed suit. Her long, golden hair flicked from her shoulders as she rolled her hips, now with her back to the Mayor.

Regina swallowed, hard, stilled to her feet as the blonde continued to move. With each sway, each jerk her hips made to the unfamiliar beat, her shirt rose just a little, like it had in her kitchen. And with a small patch of ivory flesh, two dimples were now in view. Yes the room was poorly lit, flickered with a spectrum of colors, but those prominent dents were _very _real, and _very _intoxicating.

She appeased her itch to touch it, scratch it, claw it- she didn't know- lifting a hand to run a finger through the small cut, but her view was immediately blocked by a tall male with a tight t-shirt adorned with colorful rhinestones, and a bottle of hair-gel slicked into his brown hair.

The sound that came from Regina was rough, primal, even a bit possessive. It shouldn't be; realistically Emma was nothing but a nuisance. Well the fire in her eyes was _also _real, the tight jaw, and clenched fists...all reality. She didn't like how his disgusting, oafish hands went for the blonde's waist as if she knew her. How arrogant of him to approach her without any caution?

And even with the boiling fury and embarrassing jealousy and envy, she couldn't stop herself from watching. Emma, for the millionth time if she considered counting, was the embodiment of a train wreck; it made her cringe at the closeness of their bodies, but _god _that woman could dance!

She could only imagine the feel of smooth curves with the slight, but surely pleasant, interruption of a bony hip circling his palm. The subtle arch of her back that elongated her figure, pressing into his own, the light flush of a tone ass against his crotch.

With anger came arousal, and Regina soon realized that this was quite trivial when it came to Miss Swan. When that dingbat chainsawed a branch of her apple tree, she had the merging urge to rip her head off, and take her hard and fast on the very land she stood. Here was no different. She wanted to rip this imbecile from her waist, curse Emma for being so damn easy, yet take his place; grinding and never letting go, murmuring erotic promises to create that flush against her pale skin.

And that she did, circling the pair until Emma stood before her. With a smile, that damn salacious smile fit for mischief, she took Emma's hand and slowly dragged her forward- letting that neanderthal know this dance was coming to an end.

Surely Emma was surprised, but she didn't stop the Mayor; she only gave her unnamed dancer a quick, apologetic smile as she sauntered ahead.

_Well that's new, _Emma thought as the brunette twirled around, making it clear that she wanted Emma's arm around her waist. But then again, it shouldn't surprise her. Even though Regina had the dual appearance of a demure housewife and hard ass attorney, she was never coy about her wants and her strategy to get them. _But that would mean she wants me... _Emma didn't let her mind ponder, couldn't when Regina was wrapped this close to her. When she was able to feel every curve, every movement against her, that beautiful rear pressed against her center, and the quivering muscles of abs twitching beneath her hand.

She's drunk, Emma thought begrudgingly. As far as she knew, Regina only seem to have a liking for cider, so with three strong shots of pure vodka to the bloodstream, there was a blissful oblivion in Regina and how truly erotic her movements were.

But with Regina's arm curving behind her head to take a fistful of blonde hair, the Sheriff couldn't stop the groan that blew against a tanned neck. It was so smooth...so pure- _nothing _like Regina. Then again it was. Even with her sometimes bitter approach, she seemed to miss a lot of the fun in her young life. She didn't hit that stage of rebellion, delving into the explorations of her being to see who she truly was.

_Mother wouldn't allow it, _the Mayor's words echoed in the blonde's mind.

So in a way, Regina was quite pure, as also her skin. And Emma was that woman who barged in, the black ink in her virgin, white life. The Sheriff was responsible for the disturbance of her uptight, nearly painful looking order in her life. And something about tainting Regina, the idea of introducing purity into the life of sin, to watch those dark eyes widen- her mind instinctively scorning that it was wrong- just for them to narrow in desire, finally embracing her hedonism sent a shiver done Emma's spine.

_Stop it, Swan. _

"That was rude to rip me from that poor guy's arms," Emma teased, her voice light against Regina's neck, trying to get her mind out of the gutter.

The brunette chuckled, pressing further into Emma's front, showing her presence, carving a point, a statement that it was _her _place to be, not having a care in the world for that cretin's feelings. It was only The Regina Mills way, after all.

Even with her incredibly bold and possibly stupid, drunk move, fear crept down Regina's spine. For a split moment she felt Emma stiffen behind her, most likely surprised by the switch of position, but that groan- that low rumble against her neck- rekindled her confidence. Convinced Regina that Emma enjoyed her body this close to her own, and this sexual infatuation wasn't one-sided.

"He was annoying."

Emma laughed at that, finding the indifference in Regina's voice nearly parallel to the blonde explaining her possibly jealous behavior with Wren.

_Wren. _Just her name grumbled a shiver of disgust, and all too familiar competitiveness in the back of her throat. So yeah, her response to that bitch sounded a bit personal because that's what it was.

Perhaps she could've mentioned to Regina that she and Wren had a fling a few months before her stay in Storybrooke, and that she was a slithering, manipulative, immature little runt who didn't deserve to breathe the same air as the Mayor. Yes she could've told her that, but it was nice sticking it to the taller woman one more time, even if the older woman didn't have a clue.

And as if one cue, as if a bell chimed _Hey ex fuck buddies, come piss off Emma, _the Sheriff caught gray eyes across the dance floor. Instinctively she rolled her own, returning her attention to the beautiful woman dancing in front of her. Even with the lovely curves against her own, the burn against her head was still there and it seemed like it was not going away any time soon.

Letting the frustration get to her, Emma looked up to mocking gray. The leggy woman wrapped her arms against a tall blonde, making light but purposed caresses against her upper thighs. It was a very deplorable move- a sign of ownership yet it had a cold edge distance. It was clear she was saying, _I could have your friend and her tonight, and like you, they're all disposable. _Emma clenched her jaw, hands cuffing the hips in front of her.

Regina felt the added pressure and though surprised, she didn't mind it. It made her feel owned, one of many power-trip fantasies starring the blonde coming to life. A part of her wondered if this were simply one of them, and that her mind gotten carried away. Even with her dreams where she and Emma were not the only witnesses to their cheap sex, the other people were simply a blur. Sometimes there were faces, most of the time they weren't. They were merely furniture to the foreground of her fantasy.

But here she can smell the alcohol on young peoples' breath, feel them graze against her when they moved in the dance floor, and- if she cared- can hear murmurs of conversations. This was very real, and just that sense of veracity, that Emma's hands were securely against her, had her clench her thighs together to relieve the stress forming down there.

Emma didn't seem to notice because her eyes were on Wren's, a scowl etched on her face. The unnamed blonde didn't mind being Wren's pet; tanned hands caressing the tops of pale legs- visible in a skirt around the same height as Regina's.

_Oh she wants to play this game? _

The club mix of a song trailed into the next, moving on to a slow beat, clearly for thorough grinding.

Good; the constant upbeats of pop songs were getting boring to the blonde.

And as the chords began to play, Emma smiled at the familiarity of it, the echo-like voice of Lana del Rey's _Yayo_ whispering across the club.

_What an appropriate song. _

Regina, once again, didn't recognize the song but she like the soft approach. It was strikingly intimate, the lyrics, the fragility of the unknown singer's voice. Somehow that stroke somewhere deep in her, grinding with more purpose, daring to take a glance at the woman pressed behind her. To her disappointment she found green eyes focused straight ahead and when Regina followed her gaze, she gasped at the result.

_Wren...why? _But when Regina saw that smug expression, the small that was clearly for her, she knew what was going on. It was clear that there was unspoken- actually it _did _get vocal, come to think of it- animosity between the two women back at the bar, which of the two were going to have the upper hand. The art major- at least that's what Regina _thought _she said- was holding some thin floozy like some shiny diamond, bragging at what's hers.

Well fine, Regina thought. She'll certainly make Wren aware that _she _was quite a shiny diamond, as well.

And as if she didn't need more incentive, Emma's hand trailed lower, moving against her bare, olive thigh, nails digging into the muscle. She backed up, swiveling to the slow beat, tilting her head against the blonde's shoulder.

Emma gasped, her brain nearly short-circuiting at the firm snug Regina's ass had against her. Yes they've danced tonight, yes they've gotten past the comfort levels of their typical hate-civil relationship, but this took the cake of inappropriate. Regina seemed not only aware of her closeness, which Emma thought she was too drunk to recognize, but seemed to not care.

_"Put me onto your black motorcycle_  
_ Fifties baby doll dress for my 'I do...'  
It'll only take two hours to Nevada  
I wear your sparkle, you call me your mama..."  
_

A long, strong neck was in view for Emma and before she could stop herself, her lips were against it- taking in the scent of sweat, apples, and the natural smell of the Mayor- ghosting the leaping pulse there. Even with the distraction of Regina's all too submissive angle, her eyes still remained on Wren's- who lifted a brow, clearly surprised by Emma's audacious move.

The soft caress of Emma's kiss against her neck had Regina hitch in breath, her eyes fluttering just to embrace this indulgence. It's Wren Emma's doing this for, Regina reminded herself, but Regina can't help but feel the personification of the kisses that follow- peppering from the base to just behind her ear. Maybe she wanted this. Maybe she thought of this as much as Regina had, and this was just a half-ass way to admit it with subtlety.

_"Let me put on a show for you, daddy_  
_ Let me put on a show_  
_ Let me put on a show for you, tiger_  
_ Let me put on a show_"

Emma watched the tall brunette's frown from across the room- could practically hear the grounding of her jaw as she clutched to the pet blonde. That was their problem in the first place; their competitive, alpha natures always bumped destructively.

And tonight won't be any different if Regina kept allowing her to touch her like this.

_She's drunk. _Emma squeezed her eyes, trying to fight her hormones, but her mouth couldn't stop kissing the Mayor's neck, latching against the moist flesh, reveling the pulse beneath it.

Regina's heart hammered, her drunk, lust-ridden mind twirling. She should stop, it been wired from childhood to refrain from frills like this, but she was surprised that she didn't hear that voice in her head, that scolding to quit being childish. All she heard was the soul-searching music and her own ragged breathing she couldn't blame on the dancing. And besides...Regina didn't like competition, in any circumstance. Her decisions as Queen, even if calculated and cunning, always been performed with semantics and excitement. Well, at least excitement for her.

That's why she didn't think of the consequences of weaving her fingers with pale ones, trailing up her hip- making sure to give her short skirt a dramatic flick on the way, knowing it was nearly impossible to see that flash of red lace in the dusky-lit club- along with quivering abs, past a protruded ribcage until it closed over her right breast. She heard the gasp of surprise, and quite honestly Regina didn't know if it was hers or Emma's, but luckily the blonde did not move. They just continued to dance, darting eyes every now and then at the now stunned brunette from across the room, but they remained in tuned with each others' movements. And when Emma finally closed her hand, giving the brunette's mound a squeeze, it was then that Regina realized her arousal could not be sated on her own doing. Her nipples perked responsively, straining in the bra and tight button-up, begging to be burned and soothed by the blonde's touch; wanting her to be everywhere yet in one area at the same time.

"Emma..."

The Sheriff heard that voice, albeit slurred and mumbled, but she knew the message behind it, the request that didn't need explaining. Emma was beginning to wonder if there was something laced in any of those drinks to have Regina this responsive and easygoing, and panic shot through her. But she's been on Ecstasy before, dabbled in it in her late teens, and knew the damn near painful need for release that came along with the euphoric affects of the pill, and Regina wasn't close to that unnatural desperate state. So...she's drunk, and Emma's feeling up a drunk girl. A drunk _Regina. _

Like lava she took a step back, just the evidence of her wrongdoing making her sick to her stomach. Regina- mayoral, nearly regal with her mannerisms- wasn't that loose woman that Emma inadvertently attracted to her bed, and even with their quarrels, Emma has always had respect for the woman who was capable of running a town, making a habit of trying to toss Emma out of town, and being a full-time mother- all without a hair out of place and with clothes alarmingly pristine.

Regina didn't deserve this.

"I should...bathroom," with a stammer she was backing up, leaving Regina with a fervent heart beat, and furrowed brow in confusion and embarrassment.

"Emma," She repeated in a growl turning around, nearly stumbling in her heels, but she was only met with the few dancers beside her.

_Fuck._

* * *

When Regina thought she could feel the two hours during the arrival of the car ride, it didn't occur to her that it could possibly become more potent with its _departure_. Even with the alcohol in her system, her senses were on overdrive as if she was cold sober.

_Well fuck. _

This evening had a different outcome than Regina had in mind. In fact she didn't know _how_ it would end, but certainly not something this painfully awkward...

...and infuriating.

Damn Emma for forcing her to a place of stupid children, and damn Emma for making her see the enjoyment in it! And damn Emma for touching her with fervor, stroking a fire she had no knowledge of inflaming in the first place. And most of all, damn Emma for stopping without as much of a word or explanation.

Screw you, Miss Swan.

* * *

**So...we're not gonna pretend tonight's episode happened, right? Right? Right. **

**Anywayyyyy, send me a review so I can sob over them and stuff :D  
**

**Hmm thinking about adding Ruby...yeah I think I'm gonna add Ruby :) (And not in _that _way, since some reviews already seem to have their mind in the gutter.) I meant merely incorporating her insight in the story. *eyeroll*  
**


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